Jim Moriarty Imagines
by TheObamaLlama
Summary: [Unfortunately, the blog I had gotten permission from to write these stories has been deleted by its owner, so I can no longer write these imagines. I apologize profusely.] This is a set of short stories based off of the various posts from imaginemoriarty./. Don't worry, I've gotten permission from the creator of the blog and you should check it out yourself; it's phenomenal.
1. Being confused he fell in love with

The Imagine Post: post/113690938806/imagine-jim

 _Imagine Jim…_

Being confused he fell in love with you, an ordinary person.

The stirring emotion carved throughout his stomach, feeling as though it would leave horrid, deep cuts. Yet, in a good way. No, perhaps not. Jim Moriarty was aching in pure confusion of his thoughts and feelings; he just couldn't understand whether they were to be identified as _good_ or _bad_. Even so, he was sure of at least one thing. Jim knew damn well what the cause was to all of this.

 _You_.

The first meeting between the both of you was to be described as fleeting, in Jim Moriarty's opinion; it all happened very quickly. You had been looking in one direction walking about the streets of London, with Jim looking the other and soon after, you had run face first into his chest. Jim was practically a human wall, just teetering back a bit, but you didn't have such luck; you had fallen and been knocked to the ground on impact. Luckily, you hadn't tumbled far enough to hit your head against the concrete, but you knew for a fact that your tailbone would be feeling a great deal of pain later that evening.

At first, Jim searched you angrily, nearly barking, 'Watch where the hell you're going," but, in his eyes meeting yours his gaze softened for some reason completely unknown to him. He felt _nervous_. Jim had swallowed that lump in his throat and, without thinking, reached for your arms, helping you up in the process. For a bit, you awkwardly shifted in place under his gaze, not entirely sure what his deal was. You decided that you were tired of the uncomfortable silence and was the first to speak.

"Sorry, sir," your voice soft and rather melodious to Jim's ears. He took in your apology, searching for something to stay in return.

"It's all right," Jim's voice was quiet, barely audible, but due to close proximity you heard him just fine, "Just…be more careful."

You had tried to read the expression upon the new stranger's face, but found nothing really. He looked rather nonchalant about the situation at hand; nearly _numb_ looking towards you. The man's reactions had sent a spark to your curiosity and only increased as he finally shifted to the side and began walking away without another word. Especially with that mysterious atmosphere, you were dying to know at least a _little_ more about him.

In response to your own thoughts, you quickly turned back round, shouting after his attention, "H-Hey! Wait!"

You gave out a tiny smile as he stopped and turned his head enough to look over you again. Running up to him, you threw him a grin. This made Jim search over you in slight admiration. He could tell you were simple. Ordinary. Yet, somehow, he was captivated all the same.

' _How terribly confusing,'_ Jim thought to himself with a slight tilt of the head, his brown eyes searching you.

"I never caught your name, sir," you spoke with a slight puff of breath from the earlier spell of running. An expression of confusion washed over your features of his deep chuckle and the mischievous cover of his eyes.

' _She has no clue who I truly am. Absolutely adorable,'_ Jim laughed again at his thoughts. He figured he should answer your question, so he gave out a slight hum and began to speak,

"James Moriarty. And you are?"

"Oh! Nice to meet you, James. I'm _."

"Please," a smirk crossed his features, "call me Jim."

"Well, pleasure to meet you, Jim," you gave him a bright, genuine smile. There was that fascination, again. Jim was practically _drowning_ in it. He watched as you gave him a hand to shake. Jim took it, gently wrapping his palm about your own, nearly as though he thought you'd break, even though he knew that that wasn't the case.

And that was that. Now he was sitting on his own. Deeply contemplating on how on earth he could ever, _ever_ fall for someone so simply, utterly ordinary.


	2. Being Sherlock's child and finding

The Imagine Post: post/118909813386/imagine

 _Imagine…_

being Sherlock's child and finding Jim standing in your bedroom in the middle of the night after he broke into your flat.

You awoke with a jolt as the sound of shattered glass hit your ears. It was then that you clung to the blanket that surrounded your body, your heart bursting among your ribcage. Many times you had admitted to yourself that you were not as brave as your father, and unfortunately, it was true. You very much envied him for it, but there was only so much you could do. One couldn't exactly change their natural personality, after all.

Your senses, fully alert by now, identified the broken window that is situated across from you. Body shaking and breath accelerated you looked about the room for the perpetrator. It was then that you found a silhouette of a body right next to the side of your bed. Your breath hitched. The stranger must have sensed your fear already because a deep chuckle rattled throughout the room.

You watched his body shift towards your nightstand, waiting in anticipation, until finally, he flicked on the lamp that lay there. Your eyes squinted a bit at the sudden taking of light, but at the moment, that was the least of your concerns; you were intently staring at the man in front of you. In looking, you found a smirk resting upon his features and a set of very dark eyes. You knew immediately that this situation was _not_ good. You needed to get out. _Now._

Yet, you realized that this wasn't going to happen as he shifted closer to you. As a natural reaction, you started to move away towards the other side of the bed, nearly falling off in doing so. It was then that he just decided to shift onto the bed next to you, sitting Indian style with his right hand resting upon his chin. The stranger gave you another mischievous grin.

"My, my. We finally meet Miss Holmes," he spoke deeply, confidently, as if he just knew it _all_. Perhaps, he did. You hadn't a clue.

"You…know who I am?" you answered carefully, your tone quiet. You were a bit startled as the man gave out a sudden, hearty laugh.

"Do I know who you are?" he mocked your question, "Of _course_ I know who you are. You, my dear, are _ Holmes. You see, at first, you were merely a rumor to me because, _seriously_ , let's be honest, Sherlock Holmes? Having a daughter?" he gave out another laugh, "How entirely, completely _absurd_.

"So I just _had_ to find out for myself!" the stranger moved even closer to you, your face merely inches away from his own, "And besides, I'm terribly, utterly bored, so how about an adventure of meeting the daughter of Sherlock Holmes?"

"And considering," you gave a weak, obviously fake smile, "you are definitely not a friend of his, are you?"

"I suppose not, my dear. Though, it would be quite the fun time if we were to be working side by side. Unfortunately, Sherlock Holmes just _had_ to be the good guy. How _boring_ ," he spat.

"Who are you?" you were shocked by the growing sturdiness of your voice, but a little proud nonetheless.

"Oh, goodness. Getting brave, are we?" the man chuckled, grabbing your chin. He pulled you in and pressed his lips amongst your ear. His voice was light, breathless, a deep whisper, "Jim Moriarty."

That was when your heart stopped. It was _him_. And Jim had found that you had noticed, too, because now he was pulling away from you, grinning like a complete mad man.

"What the hell do you want," you sounded more terrified than you would've liked. Jim Moriarty could sense fear; you knew that for a fact.

"Now, now dear," Moriarty hummed, "Don't be so frightened. I merely came for a visit."

His 'comforting' words weren't exactly what you would call calming, considering the obvious undertones. You could only watch as Jim Moriarty placed his palm against the side of your face. His eyes gently searched your own. Your fear began to slightly subside by the change of expression among his face. Moriarty didn't look so mean this way.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of a phone. Moriarty immediately released your face and removed himself from the bed, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He searched the cell's screen. Jim Moriarty began to move towards the window.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Holmes, but I'm afraid that I must take my leave. I have business to attend to," another grin was brought to his face, "Goodbye, _. Until we meet again."

Jim Moriarty then jumped out of the broken window of your flat. It was then that you had registered the last words of his sentence.

"We're…going to meet again?" you questioned softly to yourself.


End file.
